


I'd Always Care

by The_Grace_of_Cas (Space413)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Broken Castiel, Castiel Whump, Dark, Dean Whump, Demon Dean Winchester, Demonic Possession, Human Castiel, M/M, Naked Castiel, Non-Consensual Touching, Pain, Possessed Dean, Possession, Season/Series 09, Sexual Tension, don't read the tags before the description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space413/pseuds/The_Grace_of_Cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much recommended READ: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1008297/chapters/2000132 FIRST! This is the story for Dean's perspective.<br/>Dean walks into Abaddon's trap and gets possessed by her in a desperate search to find a captured Castiel. Abaddon continues to have fun by talking to Castiel while using Dean's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Would Never Hurt You

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this from Cas's perspective afterwards, the entire plot line is given away so much recommended read his first.
> 
> Also, I will probably end up doing the entire story for Dean's POV and if I still like the story continue from Cas's?   
> I'm really bad at finishing things so if you think it's done enough go ahead and say.

Dean hadn't had another choice but to race head first into Abaddon's trap. Mention Cas once, just once, and Dean lost his head. One simple " _We have Castiel_ " and Dean had driven as fast as he could right into Abaddon's clever, thought-out plan.

But he never thought she would actually possess him. He never foresaw her slicing off his inked flesh and choking her black soul down his throat. He most definitely didn't envision the sudden lack of control, the terror that he suddenly felt.

 ** _"_ I've got you now," **she said, her voice a dark purr in the back of his mind. He could feel her invading his thoughts, reading the things he never wanted anyone to know.  **"Crowley, where is Crowley?"**  she asked, frustrated at the lack of data Dean seemed to be giving her.

Dean felt her rehash the memories he never wanted to think of again and it made him feel weak at the knees, not that he could've fallen over. The entire sensation was as if his finger had been numbed to the point his fine motor skills were gone, but it was the complete extreme of that all over his body. 

But he wouldn't let her get to Crowley. Not that Crowley dead necessarily meant anything to him, he just knew her getting what she wanted wasn't a good idea, and for the most part Dean was pretty good at telling which ideas are good and not. He covered that thought up, buried it, destroyed every fraction of it in his mind to cover it from her, wishing he had enough power to focus on all the other memories she was gaining, making him oh so vulnerable.

 **"Fine _"_  **he heard her say, speaking directly into his head.  **"Let's just go have some fun with your friend Cas then."**

And that's when the real dread started sinking in.

 

Kicking Cas out of the bunker was one of the hardest things Dean had ever had to do, and coming from him that's saying something. All Dean wanted was Cas with him, beside him, damn; he needed that more than nearly anything else. He always knew Cas wouldn't stay with him for some reason. It was bitterly ironic thatit was he who ended kicking the ex-angel out.

And now look where he was. Walking into a mouldy, abandoned room and killing a demon with frigid, calculated moves. He couldn't even control a breath he took; it was all Abaddon. He couldn't even see Cas until she wanted him to. He couldn't control the emotionless "Cas" that came out of his mouth as greeting.

He also couldn't control how he saw him.

 **"My demons did this up special for you, you like?"**  Abaddon asked mockily. She slowly moved Dean's eyes up from Cas's naked cock to his vulnerable face. Every part of Dean burned in anger and he could physically feel that hot thing all over his body, but he doubted it was visible with her there, making him do whatever she wanted.

Cas,  _his_ Cas was trapped by the feet, naked and human and he couldn't do anything about it.

" _I'll tell you where Crowley is_ ," Dean said. It was giving up; he was already to the point of a desperate plea.  _"Just don't hurt Cas."_

Dean felt the brutal invasion in his mind that was Abaddon because her probing felt like ice dancing around the susceptible part of who he was. Dean barely noticed Cas’s strained hello with Abaddon muttering in his head  **“Tut, tut, you’ve made this hard on yourself, Dean. I have to use my plan… A. You blocked that so much it’s not even in your head. It’s funny. You try so hard that you hurt yourself and yet you haven’t even managed to fight me off a bit.”**

Now Dean was panicking. He searched his own mind over and over, but the simple layout of where they kept Crowley was indeed gone. He'd tried so hard to fight her... could you really repress something like that? Then he tried flailing, he tried screaming, he tried to simply back off, away from Cas in and this imposing feature he'd become. But not a single scream he let out was heard. She had him; oh she had him.

But that didn’t mean he had nothing to offer her. Bargaining with a demon because of someone he loved, why is it that he always ends up here?

 ** _“_ I** _can still help you get to the place he is,”_ Dean offered. He felt himself smile.

**“So can he.”**

“What no thanks?” Dean asked Cas cruelly. Where had they been in conversation? All Dean could see was an absolutely gutted expression on Cas’s face. All Dean could feel was the feeling of gasping for air at that expression. Silly it was, for Abaddon had him breathing perfectly fine. She seemed to enjoy keeping Dean’s eyes at Cas’s eye level now, just tearing him apart with his gaze. Cas seemed to be avoiding that, though. Dean couldn’t notice but how fragile Cas was right now, and Abaddon looked like she wanted to find every single way of breaking him.

Why? Dean had no idea. He tried to ask her about that, but she had turned her full attention to Cas. There were goose bumps along his body. Dean wasn't sure if it were from the fact it was chilly and Cas was naked, or if he was scared of Dean. Dean turned over inside despite himself.

“Thank you, could you please get me out of this trap?” Cas asked weakly. Finally he looked up at Dean and Dean bathed in the relief of his eyes. It was refreshing and soothing to be able to see Cas at least visibly okay, at least fighting this, even if there was some sadness in his gaze.

But then Cas flinched away and that momentary relief bite him. He didn’t even know what he -Abaddon- did. It was as if Dean were too painful to look at. Dean wanted to get Cas the hell out of this situation and into the Impala. He wanted to wrap him up in his spare change of clothes that were in the trunk and take him back to the… wherever he lived now and just talk everything through and keep him warm with the heat of his car and the soothing words he’d somehow find the right way to say.

“I found a lever; it’s around the corner by the door out there,” Abaddon said. Dean had recalled seeing that. It must be how to unlock the crazy contraction binding Cas’s feet. Cas suddenly looked very unsure with Dean not even motioning to release him. Abaddon forced Dean’s visual to look down once again, and Dean pretended she hadn’t. “Interesting outfit, by the way,” he heard the sound of his own voice say savagely.

“Dean, the lever?” Cas asked. He was growing increasingly suspicious. That was good. Maybe Cas had a plan. Maybe one was forming in his human head, his angel mind. Maybe he knew exactly what to do if things turned for the worst.

But Abaddon didn’t seem worried about Cas’s unease. In fact, she was grinning about it. And she was making Dean walk closer to Cas, much closer than Dean would’ve like to invade Cas’s personal space while the ex-angel was clothed, so much less naked.

“Dean?” Cas asked again. The sound of his named was physically painful coming from Cas like that, so worried, so afraid. He never wanted to see Cas like this and he wanted to try to make this better, but all Abaddon let him do was grin horribly at Cas’s rising demise.

“What?” Dean asked. And then Abaddon rolled his eyes. It was strangely uncomfortable for her to do some. “You don’t trust me?” he asked. Cas was looking at him now, and because his sad eyes shown so much pain and confliction, Dean felt as if he could drown in it.

 **“You have some fun memories I can play around with,”**  Abaddon said.  _But what was the point?_  he tried to ask her. What was the point in this whatsoever? How could this  _possibly_ benefit her? He tried to ignore the utter terror her statement made him feel, but he knew she still knew it. He knew she could destroy everything he was just with the amount of information she now had.

“Dean…” Cas said. It was in resignation. It was flinching from a past Dean wanted to stay as buried as possible, and  _apprehension_ , which as much as Dean prayed Cas noticed something was up, wished he'd never hear intoned in Cas's voice when speaking to him, who should be a safe haven for him. 

At least Abaddon's harshness would lead Cas to realise it wasn't Dean. 

 **“Oh, honey, he doesn’t suspect you’re possessed. You should’ve guessed that. He’s just scared _you’re_  going to hurt him. And why wouldn't you, after you already have so much?**”

Dean’s stomach twisted. Cas would catch on soon enough because he knew Dean would never actually… be that cruel towards him? But Abaddon was using words that Cas would believe, that could make sense for Dean to say in some messed up version of this world that could be seen from Cas’s point of view.

“You never do,” he continued. “You didn’t trust me with the angel tablet, or that I wanted you to stay. That is was purely for Sam.”

And that sliced right into Dean. Surely Cas had believed him on that one? Why on earth would Abaddon even bring  _that_ up? That wasn’t in his brain! He’d explained Zeke possessing Sam; he’d explained all of that!

But something about Cas’s shattered expression told him otherwise. His next words were even weaker sounding.

“That’s not true, Dean. Could we please talk about this when I’m fully clothed?”

“What’s the difference?” he asked. Somehow Abaddon managed to make him move closer to Cas. They were within inches. He ran a finger down Cas’s arm. Familiar sparks lit up that Dean ignored, but they were washed away with a sense of utter sickness. Cas flinched away barely after contact, and that cracked Dean a little further open. What was Abaddon’s point in this!

“You don’t even trust me to touch you…” she said. Well why would Cas! Look at the situation! Do the math! That made perfect sense!

**“Oh stop it, I can tell it hurt you.”**

_Fuck you_ , he screamed back at her, but she wasn’t paying any heat to that. Dean went to touch again on his nude side, but Cas flinched away from that too.

 **“We’re all very sick of this you know. Downright tired,”**  Abaddon said clearly in his mind. She refused to share light on what the hell that meant. 

“Dean, please. Can you let me out now?” Cas asked. There was trust in his mien, but there was also a sick suspicion that he should never have to feel towards Dean. It wasn’t right, and it was all Dean could hope for.

“Trust me; this once, just trust me,” Dean heard himself saying. He could see Cas nod slightly. Damn, he could even hear Cas’s breath start to get twisted up. Dean traced his finger wherever Abaddon wanted him to. She enjoyed tracing Cas’s jawline and spine. Spiteful, her motives must be. All this was doing was tearing both him and Cas apart.

Cas should’ve yelled at Dean right there. Say this was all off limits; say that Dean had to free him at once. He had to believe there was something wrong here, something so terrible off in the...

“You keep flinching away,” he said coldly, his voice knocking around his chain of thoughts.

“I’m new to human touch,” Cas said, and it made Dean want to cry. He wanted Cas to feel warm and safe from a hug, not flinch from the cold trespass of a demon possessing his best friend. “And I’d much appreciate it if you’d stop.” The raw edge in Cas’s voice got Dean.

_You hurt him; you’re toast._

**“I’d like to see you try to hurt me.”**

“You can stop trying to cover yourself, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Abaddon said for Dean crudely. The comment made Cas subconsciously half cover up himself more.

 **“You’ll like this part,”**  Abaddon said. She then poked Cas right between his ribs. He recoiled so much he swayed and nearly fell. The contact hadn’t been hard, but Cas’s senses were up and Abaddon was using it against him. She prodded Cas all over; sometimes just tracing nothing on Cas’s body with Dean’s worn down finger nails.

“Is this how you tell me you’re angry at me?” Cas demanded, invoiced small but with rage. Dean simply flinched at the thought Cas believed he would. “Can you stop?” no, a demon was controlling him. “Dean?” another broken version of what he considered  _his_ name.

He was screaming at Abaddon now, but she kept on smiling.

“Before I leave I want to talk to you. We haven’t talked in forever,” Abaddon said. He wished to roar, of course we haven’t  _because things like you keep tearing us apart,_ but she was having too much fun to respond.

“Could you let me get some clothes?” Cas asked.  _Abaddon, what’s even the point of the nudity anyways_ he tried to reason, and least he could try to give that to Cas. Instead she responded with too harsh words that could make Dean flinch, and they weren’t even directed at him.

"No! You're a powerless human now and as I said before, you're nothing but a baby in a trench coat. I don't see any trench coat so here you are." Cas seemed to contract within himself, but Abaddon had made it so very clear he had nowhere to hide. 

 **“Don’t think I’d miss that memory.** ”

And suddenly Dean felt as if he were choking. Cas didn’t say anything in response. He was just remembering, gosh, he was remembering that flippant comment Dean had made  _years_ ago. Surely that couldn’t count for anything? 

But with how Cas squirmed under Dean’s gaze now, he was beginning to think it meant the world. And he couldn’t take it back; he just had to watch someone he loves suffer from something he honestly did. Wasn’t that his life on a silver salted platter?

“Dean… I,” Cas started weakly, and Dean wondered why the heck he hadn’t broken out of this yet. Surely hurting Cas like this couldn’t last much longer? Was Abaddon just getting her kicks by watching poor Cas hurt? What was her beef with him anyways?

But once again Dean’s own words cut off his train of thoughts. Not that he wished to say them, but they still were coming from  _his_ mouth.

“You  _what,_ Cas?” Dean demanded. It knocked the unformed words right out of Cas’s mouth.

 **“Dean, the next thing you’re about to say is really hurtful. Why don’t you stop? Surely someone couldn’t be this cruel to someone they say the _love_ ,”** Abaddon mocked. Dean tried to pull at every loophole but there was no escaping the black mist encasing his mind. He didn't know what she planned on saying, but he knew he could plan on falling apart from Cas's reaction.

“And least you can’t screw things up as much,” he found leave his mouth. If Cas wasn’t so terribly  _close_ to him he wouldn’t’ve been able to hear it. He could see Cas flinch, just ever so slightly, away from Dean. Cas was trying to remain strong, but that was hard when Dean was ripping him apart.

“Are you mad at me for falling or something else?” Cas asked. Mad at him for falling? Why would Dean be mad at him for falling? Trusting Metatron, well, he’d long forgiven Cas but he could understand that but…

 **“He’s asking you if you hate him because he’s human now. Dimwit. This isn’t fun if you can’t even follow along."** With that Dean screamed  _no_  as loud as he could. He forced Abaddon to stop, to move over but  _there was no escape._

 **“Ahh, you’re trying so hard. How about we show Cas how much you want to take that back?”** said Abaddon with cruelty.

And that was when Dean knew he was done for. It was then that Dean was put directly into a worse hell then the one he’d experienced with Alistair running things. This, this was the epiphany of torture.

He punched Cas right in the guts. A hard, cruel, pernicious blow. Cas was unprepared, off guard, weak while looking at him with broken, questioning look along with a look of growing anger.

He screamed at Abaddon louder, trying to gain an inch of control. Sam could gain control over the devil and he couldn’t over this stupid, lousy, time travelling bitch.

 **“Don’t flatter me,”**  he heard. She was spying on every single uncontrollable thought went through his mind.

“What now?” Cas demanded, one hand still covering his stomach. So much betrayal was in the poor human sound of Cas’s voice that Dean couldn’t bare it. “Are you going to hurt me again, Dean?” he challenged, while Dean was thrashing beneath the surface, trying to scream  _no_ , trying to scream  _sorry_. Nothing came out though, nothing but an emotionless face that only let the light of enjoyment of Cas’s expiration become evident. “Are you going to torture me like you…”

And now Dean was writing beneath his face. Despite the circumstances he also felt vulnerable all of sudden. Sometimes he forgot, just for a second, all the things he did. All the awful, forever unforgivable things he did that Cas had gone and let him believe he could get redemption for. It had really been Cas who let him believe he was worth anything. But that was so long ago now, another century, another eternity.

Cas has every right to bring it up. He had every right to use it against Dean and make Dean fall apart, Abaddon there or not. But apparently Abaddon didn’t think he did.

Another hard blow in Cas’s stomach. Another thing he could never erase from his mind. Another grunt and gasp for air that scorched his eardrums with pain because that was Cas, and Cas should not be in pain because of him.

“You know what? I don’t even care. There's nothing to care about. You and me? We're done. I'm out. Deal with the rest yourself,” said Dean, or not Dean but the cruel verdict that sounded quite a bit like him.

Cas  _still_ appeared to believe this was him. Could Cas really believe Dean wanted nothing to do with him? That Dean would hurt him and want him gone?

And then Dean felt himself turn around. He was walking away. Simply walking away, leaving Cas vulnerable and endangered and alone.

Abaddon did the luxury of showing him the other similar image to that that was etched into his retinas. One of a forgotten time, one where Cas was surrounded by a ring of holy fire because of him.

But then again, Cas being away from Abaddon was a  _good_  thing. This could be a gift horse in disguise.

“You have to care somewhat!” Cas desperately cried. Abaddon allowed Dean to turn around and face Cas. Cas shrunk back at that. The fact Abaddon controlled his breathing and heartbeat was probably a good thing then, because he would be barely able to breathe. He wouldn’t be able to do anything but try to fight away tears.

There were tears in the corners of Cas’s eyes now, except he bet his eyes looked nothing but solemn.

“Why the Hell would you say that? Because you raised me from Hell? You can't save me now, Cas. You're worthless.” The words, the torture, it just kept on  _flowing_ like it was  _fluid_  and it was the  _liquid_  they would both  _sink_  and  _drown_  in. Cas couldn’t possible believe that. He couldn’t possibly Dean would think that. After  _everything?_  After all those prayers… but the tortured look on Cas’s face said he was buying every word.

“You cared enough to hit me,” Cas said just before Abaddon began to leave again. It made Dean feel even sicker.

 **“He’s a persistent little thing, isn’t he? Like a sick, needy child,”**  Abaddon filtered into his head. He wanted to rip her to shreds.

But the truly painful words, they came from Cas. The things that would make it so Dean could never truly heal, could never get past what happened so far? That seemed to be what comes next… or after that too.

“Dean, if you're mad, okay. Hurt me. Torture me. Do whatever you need to,” he started. Did he not see how Dean was fighting and twisting and thrashing against this? That the idea that Dean would want to hurt Cas stung like some demon giant bee? But it just didn’t stop. “But... don't say I'm worth nothing. You told me I was family,” Cas continued. At least Cas remembered, but he felt like he’d been shot when Cas used the past tense. That wasn’t past tense; that was an infinite. That was a forever. That was irreversible, couldn’t Cas get that? “You wouldn’t throw Sam out if he was weak.”

 **“Throw him out? I haven’t even done that yet,”** Abaddon said, probably savouring the feeling of sickness covering every inch of Dean’s body.

So Dean kept on looking at Cas, and by the way Cas continued to shrink back, it probably wasn’t friendly.

And then he pulled a knife out of his pocket.

And Cas didn’t protest as he stepped nearer to him.

Cas literally asked to be…

Over…

This was every kind of sick and twisted and torn apart and  _wrong._

There was no way Dean was capable of hurting Cas. No way! Joke’s on Abaddon, Dean couldn’t hurt  _Cas._  Words were one thing, but this? No.

**“Oh, just wait and see.”**

Abaddon closed the space she’d made when walking away.

 

 


	2. Be Defiant, Be Strong, Be Far Away From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abaddon proves just how much control she has over Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas's perspective:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1008297/chapters/2003543  
> (if you've read Dean's version first, the plot line for Cas's is kind of given away)

_Stop_ , Dean was pleading in his mind, _Stop, do_ anything _but hurt him._

A knife was his in his hands, an angel blade. This couldn’t be possible. Every second was struggle that didn’t even have any affect. Every inch of time was Dean screaming and trying to gain just a moment of control, but it was as if he was grasping at nothing.

“You want us to work through this? You want to come back to the bunker and we’ll be all buddy-buddy again?” coldly came from his mouth. He felt like it was more from him and he was more there than if the terribly harsh words were actually his own. Abaddon laced them with so much poison, and yet they didn’t feel quite alien because they were still _his._ And he couldn’t stop it.

Cas’s breathing was quite erratic now. He was clearly utterly terrified. Dean absentmindedly wondered if they did get through this, if they would ever truly get past this.

“No, Dean; I understand. I have a bull’s eye on my back, and Sam is healing. I trust you in that that’s where your intentions lie,” Cas said. The sweet sound of Cas’s lie made his heart clench. He wished they could have a different situation. He wished circumstances had forever been different. He wished he wasn’t so broken and cursed and that he hadn’t made someone he cared about so much have to deal with it.

But with his wishful thinking he’d forgotten the situation he was in. Even so, he prophesied that _nothing_ could’ve prepared him from Abaddon’s new chain of conversation.

“Dammit Cas!” he exclaimed. His voice was so eerily similar to always. The words flowed so easily from his mouth even with him fighting every syllable. Abaddon was echoing him, a perfect imitation of the past. “If you were strong, that wouldn’t matter. I don’t care what you fucking think about us, but humans aren’t  _that_ weak.”

 _What the hell?_ He demanded, not knowing how to react inside his head. _You know my head. You know about Ezekiel. You know it has nothing to do with that. So does Cas, which you know too. What the hell?_

 **“Oh, you’d be surprised how exactly much he _doesn’t_ know,” **she replied harshly in his mind. She made her mocking reply sharp, and Dean felt himself cringe away in his mind without the true ability to.

“Then why did you ask me to leave?” Cas asked. Something new had entered his voice. It was the same broken tone he’d used after Dean kicked him out, the same exact broken tone. Maybe it was the disbelief at something Dean’d actually done that was getting to Dean now, along with the rest of this entire situation.

Dean found himself stepping so close to Cas that he himself was uncomfortable, therefore Cas was pretty much shivering. Somehow, by some sick trick of God, he found that blade in his hand dragging down to Cas’s chin from his jawline. Cas let out a little pained gasp and searched Dean for so much for reason. He bit back his nearly silent small cry before he barely let it out. A cruel trace of crimson red shown against Cas’s white skin.

Cas didn’t say anything, but that was probably because he said every single word in his eyes. They wondered _how could Dean?_ and _why_?. The utter betrayal that Dean was here, actually hurting him, _Dean,_ actually hurting him, it looked like it cut Cas off to his knees.

“Well, you _aren’t_ strong,” he said instead of _Sorry Cas, I’ll do anything for you to forgive me._ “You’re a liability at best.” How could Cas believe this was him? _How?_

 **“I love how you think he’s going to catch on. You’d be surprised how far he’ll find it possible for you to go. Can’t blame me for _that_ ,” **Abaddon said. As if to add her point she added to Dean’s own statement he wished never left his mouth, “You’d break.” 

But Cas wasn’t weak. In fact, Cas was one of the strongest people he knew even with his new human emotions. He stood a little stronger and took a breath.

“I wouldn’t,” he replied defiantly, and Dean loved him a tiny bit more. Even if his strength was most likely from anger towards Dean, Dean admired that. But even that strength seemed momentary in a situation like this, and Cas appeared to retreat again, maybe from Dean’s involuntarily harsh gaze.

“Do you  _really_  want to find out if you would? Do you really care that much? Wouldn’t everything much be easier if I left you here, if you could find some freaking human life and you wouldn’t have to see my face ever again?” he asked, but despite how much that already broke him, how much that already made him bleed out everything important inside him he wasn’t close to done. “That’d sure be a luxury for me. And you’d only have to hear my name if you overheard some demons talking about my death,” he practically spat. He was beyond furious now. Cas’s wounded appearance made it appear as if he actually _believed_ Abaddon. After seeing so many demon truths today, he fully understood the true meaning behind “ _Demons lie_ ”.

“I’ve already answered that,” Cas replied. For a minute Dean was confused. He’d forgotten that little offer behind all of the words, that little offer Cas had made. That little thing that was completely and utterly impossible.

Cas had offered, God… Cas had offered to let Dean torture him.

Cas

Had…

_But that was simply insane._

**“Cas apparently doesn’t think so.”** Abaddon reminded before the worst thing, the most unimaginable, crazy, and deluded thing happened.

Dean dragged that angel blade all the way from Cas’s shoulder to his mid-thigh. Cas recoiled less than he had at Dean’s previous harmless touch. He was simply shifting in complete pain under the blade.

Dean screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed in horror at this, this insane proposition, this crazy, absolutely ludicrous illusion.

But nothing left his mouth. Not a single beg or plea or beginning of an exorcism. There were no consolations or confessions or _anything._ He couldn’t stop it. He had no control whatsoever over this.

Abaddon cut a few x’s into Cas’s thighs. She did some twisting just beneath the surface. She didn’t plan on killing Cas, no, she just wanted to destroy him.

 _Stop_ he kept pleading to her. It was so unlike him to plead, but when it came to Cas or Sammy… _Stop, I’ll do anything,_ anything _you wish, just please, stop…_

But she wouldn’t. She was having too much fun to even gives his cries a second thought.

Cas, he wasn’t protesting. He wasn’t screaming for the end of this torture like Dean was, he was just standing there, only upright from the fact Abaddon was holding his shoulder.

Then Abaddon, oh then she got to the _drawing._ She was a creative bitch, and she wanted to make Dean feel it. She wanted him to feel it more than if the knife was in his own flesh, twisting and maiming.

His eyes were focused on the torture that he only got to look into Cas’s eyes once, and that was right when the slashes on Cas’s chest clearly were beginning to resemble, oh how it made Dean sick, an angel banishment sigil.

Imagine that. An angel fucking banishing sigil.

For a split second, there was hate in Cas’s eyes. Bitter, bitter hate and betrayal believing his best friend was do such a thing. How could he… how could he possible ever believe this? How?

The hate, that fiery, intense thing that cut Dean yet further, dissipated rather quickly. It turned to a silent prayer of _stop_ and even a tiny touch of _this can’t really be real._

Dean bet that hatred intensified as he returned to his post of literally cutting Cas apart with a look of enjoyment in his eyes and on his face. Beneath all the pain he was sick and broken by the hatred for himself, from both himself and Cas. It was pulsing mad but nearly undetected over the agony of seeing Cas… and having Cas writhe in pain beneath the blade in _his_ hand. He wondered out all of this could be real. He wondered simply _how._

_You have to have some mercy, please, stop. I’ll tell you anything, I won’t fight you at all forever just please, stop this._

**“Stop?”** Abaddon asked. The smile Dean’d been smiling widened. She slashed quickly and deeply across Cas’s chest. Cas gasped, being probably as quietlt as he humanly could. **“But why, when this is so much fun?”** And she left marks on Cas’s body that would never go away. He was a bleeding mess, but he would certainly survive it. The way she placed them, oh, with clothes on no one would even see.

 _ANYTHING!_ Dean roared as loudly as he could. _ANYTHING JUST STOP THIS, STOP THIS!_

But she didn’t. She kept on going until Dean was drained. Until Dean had nothing left inside him, no will, no care. Nothing.

The clang of the angel blade to the ground was shocking and eerie. Even Abaddon seemed to be moving a little slower, this even seemed to have tired her some. But she still has whatever plans she had planned to put Cas through, and Dean was powerless to stop it.

He saw it now. There was literally anything she could make him do if she could make him witness that. He was completely powerless. She could pretty much do anything.

“Angel,” Abaddon addressed, preoccupied enough to let her impersonating slip. He prayed Cas noticed. “Castiel,” she amended, still not correct. “You held up better than I imagined. I’ll get some bandages from the Impala,” Abaddon continued. The words that left his mouth didn’t even sound like his now. They were much too strange sounding. Just their cadence was so off, along with the poison rolling of his tongue.

Before he left he patted Cas on the shoulder, and Cas left out a harsh sounding laugh. The sound echoed in Dean’s head and ricocheted like the sound of a bullet, and felt quite similar. Cas lost his balance after Dean’d turn to leave, but Abaddon wouldn’t let him go to help him up. He just heard the sound of Cas’s broken body falling to the cement, blood gushing from the wounds he’d inflicted.

There was no happy ending to this story. There’d never really been, but now even those remote happy prospects, they were taken right away. There was no way this would all be better again. Everything in his life was done for. He once again began to wonder if _any_ of this was real. Were these thoughts real? Was this life he was living really this set in pain?

But he knew he couldn’t fall back into believing that. He’d been there, and the uncertainty would’ve killed him if he hadn’t decided that the only way to stay sane was in believing everything just _was._

But he kind of wished that weren’t true as he walked to the Impala, sights of what just happened lining his eyes. It was unreal. It couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t be.

Dean grabbed an old towel and some alcohol from the Impala before turning back to Cas. His movements were slightly sluggish now, as if the energy really had drained from him. Maybe all his fighting her had just made Abaddon slightly less livid.

When he returned Cas wasn’t quite as naked as before, if you include the sheer amount of blood covering him to count for anything. Abaddon walked straight over to Cas, who’d become a clump on the ground, defeated from Dean’s uncontrolled, cruel actions. She then did something unexpected, and that was offer Cas a hand up. Cas took it with gratitude lined in his face. Fuck, after all that how could Cas even seem in the slightest grateful towards _any_ act Dean ever did again? Even if it was fucking dying for him.

After helping Cas up, Cas did something very unexpected. He smiled at Dean.

It cut Dean right in two.

He. Smiled. At. Him.

Dean had just spent the last long moments cutting into Cas and torturing him with venom in his words and now Cas was _smiling_ at him? It made no sense and it made Dean feel sick.

It was a weak smile. A smile through shudders of pain, really. But it was directed right at Dean right now and Dean never wanted to let Cas go. Hopefully Abaddon was done using Cas as her form of torturing Dean.

Dean was sure by now that that was what she was doing.

His point was kind of proven in the next action. Not only did Dean not even smile back at Cas in the slightest, he hurt Cas again.

And Dean had begun to think it could be over, just for a little while.

He kicked Cas right in the stomach. Cas yelped back in surprise and flew backwards despite his feet staying locked to the ground. He landed on the concrete and Dean could see his hands were now scraped from the fact he caught himself. If utter betrayal could be a picture, Cas would be it. Staring at Dean intently as if sheer willpower could drive the demon inside of Dean away.

But the demon inside of Dean couldn’t be driven away. She carried on her vicious scheme, talking to Cas with cruel tones and harsh words. She told Cas to clean his wounds and stop the bleeding, as if the materials she’d given the ex-angel would work. She then turned to finally let the chains around Cas’s feet be gone. She grabbed that spare change of clothes Dean’d had in the Impala and some actual bandages before returning. Cas was huddled up in a ball which made Dean want to die even more.

 **“Pathetic, isn’t it?”** Abaddon asked. She smiled a bit before returning her face to pure ice.

“Here,” he said, or rather Abaddon made him. He threw the supplies at Cas, who skittered to pick them up. “I’ll wait in the Impala.”

He went to return to his car once more. He bet that the car could tell something was up. He bet she could tell by his rude slamming of the door that this wasn’t Dean. He bet if she could she’d be explaining the whole bloody situation to Cas. Why Cas couldn’t guess something along those lines was beyond him.

 **“No it’s not. You just don’t like the fact you were cruel enough to him to make him able to believe you capable of this,”** Abaddon replied. That tidbit of information made an awful realisation that knocked Dean right off guard. Unfortunately, that much was probably true. It stung and made Dean want to never even be born. If only when he’d gone back in time he hadn’t been too late. If only Mary hadn’t already been pregnant with him. If only she had had an abortion or something, or anything, to prevent this stupid life of his being here today. If only, if only.

Cas came in not too long later (actually, impressive time for the sticky situation he’d been left in). Abaddon even found herself humming a sweet little tune. If Cas knew music, he would’ve known it. It was an annoying one that reached the radio one to many times, even if it wasn’t the least talented thing he’d seen. Maybe it was just because it was called “Demons” that he was so opposed to it.

She was literally saying to him that behind the eyes of his friend was she, but Cas didn’t know because he didn’t know music. He didn’t know the song. He didn’t know what lyrics went on with that tune. If only he did…

She let him glance over at Cas, and though his view seemed glazed Dean was searching ever part of Cas to see exactly how damaged he was.

Somehow the clothes weren’t bled through already so he imagined Cas went through a lot of hasty trouble to prevent the inevitable bleeding. Cas… bleeding… (gosh, Dean needed to focus before she made him turn away)

But it was too late. Maybe she didn’t look away from Cas, but Dean’s process of thought was very disturbed.

“Bleed on anything, and I’ll kill you,” he threated Cas. Cas nodded, and his lip quivered. He actually believed Dean would do that.

Why shouldn’t he after what just happened, but somehow that was just another one of these blows Dean couldn’t take.

Cas really believed Dean would actually kill him.

Even the usually comforting sound of the engine grated at Dean painfully.


End file.
